


THE SLICK WAY

by thoughtsdemise



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Fluids, M/M, Mech as Dildo, Mech/Mech, Pussy Taming, Size Kink, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 03:50:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7250821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoughtsdemise/pseuds/thoughtsdemise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rung’s alt-mode being used as a dildo in response to a “with toys” prompt challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	THE SLICK WAY

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: As per usual this is a quick little snippet that got out of hand and bloomed into a drabble.

Fort Max arches back as Rung wiggles himself deeper into the tank’s valve.  Rung triggers a subtle transformation sequence and ridges pulse and prick at sparking nodes.  Fort Max’s digits fiddle with the cycling entrance to the valve but cannot get ahold of Rung as he buries himself beyond reach.  Fort Max’s vocalizer fritzes out near a higher octave, and Rung slithers about in the lubricants.  The tubules extend from the psychiatrist’s tip to feather touches on the ceiling node while one wraps tightly about the node to draw the sparking charge off and into Rung.  The charge begins to filter into Rung’s systems to start his own overload sequence, and his internal charge is ramped up with the caressing squeeze of the tightening walls.   
  
Trying to gain the last bit of control of himself as he feels Fort Max starting his descent sequence into an overload, Rung releases his carefully constructed lock code on his transformation cog and beings the pattern back into his root mode only to quickly abort it at a stage that he would just fill Max’s valve to the point of being painful.  Rung jerks with rising charge and snaps closed into his alt-mode.   
  
Fort Max warbles static and arches into a strut snapping bend as he was filled then left so cruelly empty.  The charge snaps over his nodes and his systems crash; valve lubricants and transfluid coat his thighs in a sticky pool.  He sags against the berth and shivers as small aftershocks hit his systems hard.  Rung slithers slowly out.  Fort Max wails a harsh cry and his engine hitches in a low stall.  He pants as he vaguely registers the sound of a transformation sequence being activated.   
  
Sticky fingers move playfully over tacky-coated thighs.  Rung makes nonsense patterns in the fluids.  His glossa flicks out to take a long slow lick of the fluids dribbling over his facial derma.  He hums in contentment as he moves his hands up to encircle Fort Max’s flaccid spike.  He removes his optical protectors and stares at red optics that watch him hungrily.   
  
Dragging his delicate hands over the ridged surface of the spike, Rung moves over the large form splayed out under him.  He spreads his thighs to encompass Fort Max’s hips.  His valve cover clicks open as he slides the lubed edges along the growing stiffness.  Rung leans back as the cable rises to the occasion.  A tiny hand pets along the slick surface in a glancing touch drawing a shiver from Fort Max.  Rung licks at what lubricants he can that slip down his face.   
  
He preens under Fort Max’s focused gaze.  He wiggles his aft back just a bit further to encompass a sensitive anterior node in the outer ridges of his fluttering valve.  Rung’s helm leans back and his antennae wiggle, pleased as he rides the node and pets the spike into full pressurized containment.  A hand tugs at neural nodes in a hip joint to stabilize him.  Rung slides his valve over the node in a slow teasing wave.  His own small engine breams with pleasure in counterpoint to the deep rumble from Fort Max’s.  Rung gives one last circling pet to the tank’s spike before shifting his weight away from the ready interfacing equipment.   
  
"You’re going to use that glossa of yours, Maxy, as soon as you’ve stuffed me full and been ridden to bursting again."   
  
Max warbles a whimpering click.  He commands his frame to stillness as Rung settles over the tip of his spike.  Rung’s valve splits wide around the blunt tip. Rung moans and slides down the slick surface, enjoying the feeling of being almost painfully full. He stops half way along the spike when it hits his ceiling node and can progress no further. He smiles emphatically at the anguished look that settles deeply onto Fort Max’s face.   
  
"Patience, Max."   
  
Having dealt with this particular problem before, Rung wraps both hands about the base of Max’s spike. He brings his thighs to close and scrape against the still exposed surface of the cable. This new position tightens his valve walls as well causing an impromptu thrust to be given by the trembling tank. Rung moans and wiggles into the thrust like a cybercat on a saucer of creamy energon. He smiles invitingly at the glazed red optics as large hands pet desperately at small hips and slender sides.   
  
"Strip my internals raw, Max."   
  
Rung shudders like a frightened bird in that potentially fearsome grip as Fort Max takes hold of his small lover and draws him over his thick cord only to thrust back into that choking heat a moment later. Fort Max’s control is hair-wire thin as he faces his smaller lover into their next overload. He chokes and bends almost completely off the berth as he feels Rung rattle in his grasp. It is nearly too much for his overheated systems but watching blue optics light with pleasure and a rolling need drive him to push his boundaries into a painful measure.   
  
"R-rrrr-runggggg." Fort Max spits out between static snaps and zaps.   
  
Rung smiles heatedly at Fort Max. He anchors himself to his spike and tugs himself harshly down one last time. He whimpers as his ceiling node is impacted painfully with first the blunt tip of the spike then the jetting transfluid that erupts from it. Rung slithers his frame in Fort Max’s stiff grip to ride the bursting spike, enjoying the flood of fluid into his internals as he did his externals. Rung invents and exvents near silently, however, as an overload crashes through his systems shutting them off in a domino cascade.   
  
He slumps on the softening spike and takes one last lingering look at his lover. A devilish smile spreads over his lips as he slowly lowers his frame to rest against Fort Max’s, careful to keep the spike within his valve. He nuzzles into the blazing frame beneath him enjoying the near torturous heat. He lets a recharge cycle claim him even as he makes a quick scrawl on his HUD as a reminder to have Fort Max make use of that flexible and versatile glossa of his to clean the now tacky mess from his plating. Mmm, yes a thorough cleaning was needed for sure.


End file.
